


Fringed Pink, Cherry Blossom, Daffodil

by Halja



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: (past) onesided Sonomi/Nadeshiko, (referenced) onesided Tomoyo/Sakura, Age Difference, Don't Take This Too Seriously, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, First Time, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering, author can't believe she's ruining her own childhood but there she goes, before anyone even tries: no this isn't meant to be sonomi bashing, it's just a darkfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 02:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16845748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halja/pseuds/Halja
Summary: Sonomi's heart may be in the right place, but her mind is a treacherous thing.





	Fringed Pink, Cherry Blossom, Daffodil

**Author's Note:**

> For the Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2018. Prompt: [Sonomi/Sakura, Sonomi seeing Sakura as a replacement for Nadeshiko](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/23893.html?thread=3495253#cmt3495253)

 

 

Thing is, Sonomi is well aware of how wrong this is – and  _why_  it is wrong. All the many, many reasons. Sometimes she feels almost  _too_  aware, in fact. But that’s not enough to stop, not for her.

 

Thing is, she’s waited. Waited weeks and months and years and her whole life. Waited by her side, in the warm shadow she cast, for a glint of understanding in her eye, for a furtive smile, for their fingers entwined. Lost hope, fought for it, regained it, lost it again. And now it’s so easy to let herself slip, to fall and to fail. But only in the quiet beneath the covers, only in the space between her pounding heart and her locked lips and her wandering fingers…

 

She could tell her,  _you look so much like her._

 

Sakura would smile, shy and delighted. It would be innocent enough. Sweet enough. Like two childhood friends, hiding in secret places to share secret whispers, smiling and giggling as they complimented each other over the smallest of things – but they didn’t feel like small things, back then, before the world burst through the door like a wild wind and scattered the flowers away.

 

She could lean down to take her hands and tell her,  _we were so close._

 

It wouldn’t be a lie. Not at all. Even if they were never quite as close as she would have liked. Sakura would look her in the eye with all the sympathy of a bright, young girl with her golden heart worn proudly on her sleeve. Sweet and kind yet strong and steadfast, like spring blooming again, melting the last of winter’s chill away. Bringing new flowers, even if not the right ones. No wonder she’s her daughter. No wonder her own daughter loves her.

 

She could tell her,  _I’ve been so very lonely._ And then, she could kiss her.

 

Sakura would tremble, at first, in alarm and confusion. But her mouth would be sweet, sweet as she always thought it would be. So, Sonomi would keep kissing her. And Sakura’s muffled moan would be lovely, laced with surprise and the very first hints of pleasure.

 

She could tell her,  _please, let me take care of you._ She might add,  _the way I’ve always wanted to take care of her._

 

She’d make her feel so good. She’d kiss every inch of her soft skin, and caress it, and worship it with the utmost tenderness. She’d go slow, of course, and take her time to feel the weight of her small breasts in her hands. Take her time to take her between two fingers, and rub gently. To feel her tightness and her heat, and work her loose without hurting her, make her moist and then sopping wet. Make her cry out, her beautiful voice ringing high in Sonomi’s ears, and make her plead for  _more, deeper, harder,_ and all that she didn’t even know she could want.

 

She could. She shouldn’t. She won’t.

 

Sonomi pants in the dark, cheeks flushed and a heavy lump in her throat. She’s still clenching around her own hand, her fingers slick and her cunt hot and aching. She wants to say,  _Sakura._  And then,  _Nadeshiko._  She says nothing.

 

She prays she won’t dream. Not tonight.

 

 


End file.
